#left sidestep v vague so they could b anyone

[vicekings]

the kids aren’t alright || sidestep & baphomet

any sidestep & jasper colt || baphomet ~1200 words

made a quick piece for jasper’s companion au (for lack of a better term lmao.) Jasper & Sidestep meet again during Rebirth.

triggers: brief mentions of neglect & ECT, neither goes into depth.

The universe has to be dicking with you. 

First Ortega, and now this? 

You had thought that the perpetually-empty secondhand bookstore would be safe, but apparently the universe didn’t quite get the message that you wanted to be left alone. It ignored of the musty smell of aged paper and the inch thick layer of dusk on every other case, and it placed Jasper right in the center of the nonfiction section. Right in your way. Despite your irritation, you take the chance to study him before he notices you. 

For once, your old companion met years later doesn’t look older; he just looks worse. 

Tired eyes with dark bags underneath. Heavy stubble and unkempt curly hair. The only neat part about him was his undercut, shaved short. He’d added a few new piercings since you’d seen him last; a small silver ear cuff and a second smaller star, a little above the first. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Jasper mutters dryly, not bothering to look away from the crumbled journal in his hands. 

Before you can reply, he looks up. 

Jasper freezes for a moment. Confusion flashes in his eyes. “Holy shit.” He whispers. 

“It’s been a long time.” You reply.

Your throat is dry. Whether it’s from nerves or the dust, you don’t know. 

“No fuckin’ shit!” He hisses. 

Jasper finally sets the book aside to look you over. He frowns, looking much more like a sad puppy than he probably intends. 

“I didn’t even recognize you… you… your air feels. Different.”

“I’d imagine.” You mutter, the memory of Heartbreak pulsing in the back of your mind. 

Worry pours out of Jasper like a toppled glass; realized too late and faster than he can stop it. He hasn’t been regulating his emotional output like he used to, isn’t able to stop you from feeling his anxiety creep over you. It snaps back as quick as he can pull it, but it doesn’t remove the impression. 

“Ah. Sorry, just got back from therapy, my guard’s a little shaky right now.” He tells you quietly, turning his gaze to his feet and shifting awkwardly. 

“It’s okay.” You reassure him. “I didn’t mean to intrude, anyways. I should get going.” 

Jasper chews at his lip. “Oh, uh, okay. Would… would you be willing to meet up sometime? I’d like to catch up whenever you aren’t busy.” 

“... I'll see if I can clear my schedule.” You eventually reply, the words fumbling on your tongue. 

Jasper’s face lights up with a smile. He quickly pulls a pen and notepad from his jacket, ripping off a piece of paper and scribbling something onto it. He hands it over with a phone number written on it. Odd. He was never comfortable with anything he could be tracked through. 

“That’s good for about two weeks, but if you can’t get to me before then, you can find me here most Fridays.” Jasper explains. 

Ah. A burner phone. That makes more sense. 

You tuck the number into your pocket. “I’ll call before then.” You promise, though you’re not sure if you’ll hold to it. 

----

So, you held to your promise. 

You’re breaking a lot of rules by keeping it, but you suppose that Jasper was always good at coaxing you into rebellion. Steal a cookie from the break room, explore the offices you weren’t allowed into, break out of the Farm and hit the road running. His mother had called him a bad influence, his father had called him a disappointment, and the other scientists called him a failed experiment that kept on interfering with other projects. 

You called him a friend, once.  Perhaps the first one you ever had. 

It’s easy to see the lanky fifteen year old with a bumper crop of pimples and a sweet smile that you used to know. It was ironic, how he was born long before you and yet was younger. He’d looked on you in wonder when you’d first fell from the tube. He’d rushed to your side to help you when you stumbled through your first steps, even as the scientists scolded him. No matter what they said or did, Jasper did his best to remain beside you. 

Until Heartbreak. 

“The hospital told me you were dead. They told me as far as the Rangers were concerned, I was too. Two years in a coma with no indication I’d ever wake up... they’d given up on me.” He tells you, as you walk along the beach. 

The evening is quiet and cool and gray, like waves slowly lapping against the shore, like the storm in Jasper’s eyes as he speaks. You feel a sting of anger at the idea of him being forgotten 

You remember the first time he watched them administer ECT to you. The fury that sprung up in his eyes, the rage in his mind. You remember that he wasn’t allowed to watch after they realized he was trying to take your pain onto himself, trying to catch it before your receptors could. You remember hearing him being yelled at from the hallway, remember him yelling back. 

You didn’t see him for a week after that. When he was finally allowed to visit your “dorm,” he snuck you a list of the behaviours the researchers were looking for that would cause them to bring you in for more electroshocks. 

You remember him never giving up on you.

Had you given up on him? Or had so much happened, had so many fallen, that he’d been lost in the maelstrom of chaos that followed?

“Turns out that was good though, ‘cause the Farm gave up too. They’d been told I was killed in action. My last contact on the inside told me my files had been destroyed, and that I’d been deemed a failed experiment. Let me know the good Dr Jones and Dr Day were facing repercussions for it.” 

There’s a little laugh that escapes Jasper— sharp and bitter like the black coffee Dr Day had  always sipped as she gave you your list of tasks for the morning. 

“I’m sorry, Jas…” You murmur. 

“Is it bad? That I felt nothing when they told me my parents were on trial at the Farm? That I couldn’t bring myself to care that my own flesh and blood parents were going to face heavy punishment for my actions? No joy, no hatred, just nothing.” 

“You never asked for them to be your parents.” You try to reassure him. 

“I asked for them to be my parents a lot, but they were never interested in it.” Jasper’s making an attempt at a joke, but neither of you are laughing. 

You both go silent for a moment, watching the waves and inhaling the overwhelming smell of saltwater. 

Soon, Jasper chuckles and shakes his head. “I’m sorry. We’re supposed to be catching up, and here I am, turning into an angsty teen ten minutes into the conversation.” 

“You needed to get it out.” You tell him, patting him on the back. 

“I guess I did.” He shrugs. “Fuck, that’s enough about me. What have you been up to?” 

For a moment you want to clam up, but then he stares at you with those soft grey eyes and hopeful air and you find yourself pouring out your heart like he had just moments before. 

[fracturedmotivationwriting]

Dex goes full mama bear

TW: violence, language, mentions of abuse

Dex hadn't given a second thought to the man that followed her into Matteo and V's building. He hadn't looked particularly suspicious, and she could tell from his scent that he was part of the pack. She figured he probably lived in the building as well, given how many pack members lived in the area. Now she regretted not giving him a second thought.

Butter knife in hand, she didn't think twice about lunging forward. Mark was ready for her, however, so he easily blocked the knife before it could puncture him between the ribs. He swung back with a left hook, making Dex stumble back. Most people would be knocked out from such a hit, but that was the benefit of being a werewolf: she was able to withstand such a blow and remain conscious. But that didn't mean it didn't hurt like a b!tch. Dex winced as she moved her jaw, trying to make sure it wasn't dislocated from the hit. It wasn't dislocated, but she wouldn't be surprised if he had fractured it.

Mark didn't wait for her to hit back. He lunged forward, presumably to tackle her to the ground, but Dex was fast. She sidestepped him, using his momentum to trip him easily. Mark was quick to turn over, throwing a kick up at Dex as she tried to lunge at him, hitting her in the stomach. She felt the breath knock out of her, but as she keeled over she used the momentum to somersault away from him. She spun around on a knee just as Mark pulled himself up. She took the opportunity of the height difference to slice his thigh with the knife. As it was a butter knife, it was difficult to slice it through his skin and muscle. Dex was never more thankful for the werewolf strength. Mark howled in pain but didn't let the surprisingly deep wound stop him from grabbing Dex by the hair and yank her towards him. He landed a punch, fracturing her nose and giving her a black eye with his huge fist. Dex struggled to fight his grasp, finally stabbing him through the foot to distract him long enough to loosen his grip. She used her shoulder to push him back as she rose to her feet. She took a few steps back, breathing with great difficulty and wiping haphazardly at the blood dripping from her nose. Or maybe it was Mark's blood. She wasn't quite sure.

"You b!tch," he snarled. "You can't stop me from getting what's rightfully mine. Violetta isn't getting away from me this time."

"She isn't yours," Dex growled, her voice almost giving over to her wolf form with a real growl. "You aren't her mate. Even still, Violetta doesn't belong to anyone but herself."

Dex vaguely heard the sounds of two sets of footsteps running into the apartment and coming to an abrupt stop behind her. Given the scents, she knew it was Matteo and Frankie. Surprisingly, neither man rushed between her and Mark. Dex didn't bother glancing at them before she lunged forward again.

Mark assumed she was going to try and tackle her again, prepared to grab hold of her, and throw her to the ground. But Dex ducked at the last second, grabbing the knife sticking out of his foot and yanking it out as she spun around behind him. Mark, in his confusion, nearly tripped himself as he spun around to face her. He tried to throw another left hook, but Dex was expecting it this time. She ducked before surging forward to knee him in the stomach. She heard him grunt. She stomped her heeled boot on his injured foot, earning another howl from Mark. She used his natural urge to keel forward to push her weight against him, slamming him into the ground. She straddled him and pressed the knife against his throat, right above his jugular. She watched as a small amount of blood trickled down from the pressure. Enough to cut him, but not enough to do real damage. Not yet.

Before she could slice his throat with the ease of slicing butter, a hand landed gently on her shoulder. Dex almost growled in frustration as she turned her head up to meet Frankie's eyes. She was about to snap at him to back off, but Frankie shook his head silently with pleading eyes. Dex raised an eyebrow. Wouldn't Frankie want his sister's abuser dead? Seemingly knowing what she was thinking, Frankie nodded in the direction behind him. Dex eyes traveled behind him, understanding instantly.

Matteo had his arms wrapped around V, trying to comfort her and shield her from the sight of Dex and Mark. But V's eyes were peaking out his embrace. Dex could see the fear underneath the tears, but there was something else too. Dex couldn't quite name it. But she knew that she couldn't do this. Not without V's permission, and definitely not in front of her. With everything she'd been through, she didn't need to watch Dexter kill Mark. She didn't need the added trauma.

Dexter gave Frankie a small nod before turning back to the monster under her. She pressed the knife just a little harder as she leaned forward, forcing Mark to meet her eyes.

"I'm not going to kill you," she informed him. "You're a monster and you deserve to die, but I'm not giving you the easy way out. I want you to remember this pain for the rest of your sad, small life. Maybe then your little pea brain will realize what a terrible person you've been."

She leaned forward even more, bringing her lips next to his ear. She felt Mark struggle under her, but he stopped as she pressed the knife down a little more.

"If you ever come near V again, through, I will kill you. It'll be long and tortuous. I'll have you begging for death, and just as you think I'll give you mercy, I'll stop. I'll let you get better, and then I'll do it again. And again. And again. I'll keep repeating it until you've given up all hope on dying. And once you do that, I'll drown you. I hear it's the most painful way to go. Say something so I know you understand me."

"I understand," Mark whispered, his voice coming out raspy as he struggled to speak without letting Dex's knife do any more damage.

Dex pulled back, studying Mark's face. She found glee in the pure fear in his eyes. He'd gotten her message. He knew she wasn't lying. Dex offered him a maniac smile.

"Now, you're going to leave here, and you're never going to come back. If you ever step foot in this city, hell in this state, again, I will find you," she promised him. "Being a lone wolf sucks. I suggest finding a new pack far, far away from here. Maybe they'll allow sexist, narcissistic abusers like you."

Dex started to get up, gratefully taking the hand Frankie offered her. She knew he heard ever word, even the whispered threats she'd given Mark. There's no way he could've missed it with the werewolf hearing and standing behind her. But she was pretty certain she'd been quiet enough the V and Matteo had missed it. She hoped V missed it. She didn't want to frighten the woman more.

Just as Mark started to sit up, however, Dex placed a foot on his chest and pushed him back down. Mark looked up at her startled, and she felt Frankie bristle beside her.

"One last thing," she murmured, crouching down quickly and slamming her fist down. The knife in her hand plunged into his eye, causing Mark to scream out in pain. The noise was likely loud enough to alert all the neighbors, if the howls earlier hadn't. It sent a shiver down her spine, but Dex did her best to ignore it. She'd done much worse, but every time she heard a scream like that it still shook her to her core.

She stood, wiping the blood on her hand on her jeans. She watched as Mark curled into fetal position, holding his face around the knife as blood poured between his fingers. She hoped Matteo had some strong cleaning supplies, or a really good maid.

"All your other injuries will heal without so much as a scar. I wanted you to have a lasting reminder of this. So that maybe you won't ever treat someone like you treated V," Dex explained, stepping back and gently bumping into Frankie. "Now get out."

She watched Mark with steady eyes as he scrambled to his feet and hurried out his door. She stared at the open doorway a bit longer, waiting until she was certain he was out of the building, judging by the way his scent faded into the background. Was he was gone, she felt her body sag in exhaustion. The adrenaline drained out of her body, leaving her tired and in much more pain than she cared to admit. She had been able to ignore most of her injuries while fighting, but now she felt the effects of every hit. Mark had definitely fractured her jaw and nose, left her with a black eye, and maybe even caused some pretty bad bruising on her ribs and internal organs. Not to mention that her knuckles and joints were sore from hitting him. And she was covered in blood -- both hers and his.

Dexter swayed on her feet. She felt Frankie grab her elbow to keep her from falling. She gave him a grateful smile, receiving a worried look in return. But Frankie didn't say anything. Dex wasn't quite sure what was going through his mind, but she was secretly grateful he was silent. She wasn't sure what to say to him.

She turned towards Matteo and V, who were still holding onto each other. V's face was still full of tears, but it seemed that having her mate beside her had calmed her down a little. Or maybe the fact that Mark was gone had. Dex couldn't be sure.

Dexter stopped a couple feet away from them, looking down at her bloodied clothes before slowly raising her eyes to meet V's. Dex suddenly felt ashamed for taking things so far. She fiddled with the rings on her fingers, making a mental note to carefully clean the blood from them later.

"I'm so sorry you had to see that, V," Dex started softly. "But I don't regret doing it. No one gets to harm my family and get away with it. Maybe I shouldn't have taken it so far, but Mark deserved to feel the pain he caused you."

V took a step forward, out of Matteo's embrace. Her mate watched her with careful eyes as she approached Dex. Dex watched her with a frightened look. V stopped just before her, seemingly hesitating as she eyed Dex's bruised and bloodied form.

"Dex, please go home" she started softly, making Dex's heart clench in fear. V hated her. Dex had taken things too far and now V wanted nothing to do with her. Dex had lost someone who felt like a sister, and now she was going to have to leave the pack. Leave her family. Leave her mate.

"And shower so I can give you the biggest hug ever."

Dex stared at V blankly for a moment. Shower? Hug? V didn't-

Dex let out a tiny laugh, smiling widely at the woman before her as she realized that V didn't hate her. V was grateful for Dex's actions. She wanted to hug her. Dex gently nodded, agreeing to do just that.

"I'm glad you're safe," V added. "Thank you for defending me."

"Anytime, Violetta," Dex promised, her voice a little more solemn than the happy moment dictated. "Anytime."